Thicker Than Blood
by Trins xxx
Summary: They are back in the Enchanted Forest, Henry long gone. Tink starts rediscovering the land that she had been created in, the land full of magic where magic is despised, where the alleged leaders barely know their own lands and laws, and where the despised Evil Queen might not be so very despised after all. AU Eventual Outlaw Queen. Tink/Regina friendship and Tink-centric.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer****: **I don't own Once Upon a Time. I wish I was making money from this but alas, I am not.

**Author's Note****: **So one of the things that I thought made Once Upon A Time Season 3 so much better than Season 1 was Regina's and Tinker Bell's history/friendship. It was so...Gossip Girl and so anti-White Hat vs Black Hat kind of thing. I just loved that they were shades of grey and ambiguous, acknowledging that it's not always good vs evil. And out of that love was born a fanfic, possibly developing into a series, that focuses predominantly on the friendship between Tinker Bell and Regina.

**Read and Review****: **Tell me what you love and tell me what you hate. Most importantly, tell me how to make it better. Or drop a line and just say hi, if nothing else.

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><p>Thicker than blood<p>

'_He who is not everyday conquering some fear has not learned the secret of life.'_

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson ~

Tinker Bell isn't sure whether it has something to do with power or magic, but she and Blue are the first ones to overcome the effects of breaking the curse, which theoretically meant that Regina should have been up and about too.

She glanced around uncertainly, the tendrils of panic slowly taking root as she saw everyone as their Enchanted Forest counterparts but no Evil Queen in sight.

'She's over there,' Blue nodded to her right. Tinker Bell didn't pause to wonder how Blue knew what she was thinking (or was she just that transparent?) as she took off in a hurried jog in that direction, the panic slowly but surely growing within her.

It wasn't hard to find Regina in the end. The sound of sobs, soul crushing, body wrecking sobs, led easily to her and Tinker Bell had to force down the bile that had unknowingly risen into her mouth.

Life wasn't fair.

She's learned that one from personal experience. It wasn't fair that she'd just been trying to reach out to a lost and broken soul and got punished for it. It wasn't fair that even though she was right, everyone had made her doubt herself. It wasn't fair that she'd lost her wings because of someone else's fears and weaknesses and it wasn't fair that she had been stuck on Neverland when she had never done anything _wrong_ or _evil_ as such.

It was this that allowed her to empathise with Regina.

'Go away, Tink,' she said, her back to the fairy yet still somehow sensing her in the midst of her misery. Understandably, the fairy just ignored her, stepping forward cautiously, one at a time, the seeds of dread taking root easily in the panic that seemed to send the fairy's nerves buzzing.

'Tink, just go _away_,' she repeated, less force this time and with the slightest hint of despair, infecting Tinker Bell with the same emotion; panic, dread and despair made for a sickening mixture.

It wasn't fair for Regina to have her happy ever after killed by her mother, she thinks, as she gets closer.

'_Regina_...' Tink's voice is hoarse as it fades away, any other words inadequate to convey anything that she's feeling, nothing to what Regina must be feelings.

'Go _away_ Tinker Bell.' A small ball of fire erupts from her hands as she stands up. The fairy's eyes watch the flames, fascinated to find that they seem to melt away from Regina's form and she wonders, distantly, if maybe there's some sort of magic protecting the user from itself, at least in a physical sense. She watches her as she staggers to a stand, fists clenched tightly enough to cause pallor around her knuckles, and the dread becomes a little dizzying, maybe just the tiniest bit overwhelming.

It wasn't fair for Regina to be made a wife for a man old enough to be her father and mother to a stepdaughter less than ten years her junior.

The fairy blinked away tears as she continued to approach the queen, realising a little belatedly that her wings had returned. How strange it was that what was once most important to her had now faded into mostly insignificance, when faced with the heartbreak and self-sacrifice of a...yes, a friend. She tried to speak again. '_Regina_,' she forced the words around the lump in her throat.

'It's fine. _I'm_ fine,' Regina appeared to physically force the shuddering of her frame into submission. 'You can leave now. Check on the others,' she added as an afterthought, causing a wry smile on the blonde's face to appear. She wasn't concerned about anyone except the person right in front of her, she thinks as she feels the emotions result in a tango between bile and acid in her stomach, tempting her to open her mouth and let it all out.

It's not fair that Regina had been essentially abandoned in a large castle and isolated, most of the time from her husband and stepdaughter too.

'I know you will be, in time,' is what comes out of her mouth instead. Limp though the words are, she still cringes when Regina derisively snorts.

The subsequent silence wraps them in a strange sort of companionship, the darkness of the looming trees eerily quiet, absent of its usual noises of birds, preys, predators and critters. Despite the recent travel to Neverland, it felt alien compared to the world of Storybrooke that everyone had swiftly acclimatised to. It occurs to her that this is where everything began, the slow extraction of happiness from Regina's life. She's always been teetering on the edge of destruction and self-destruction and this could be the trigger for the nuclear implosion of her being...again.

It's not fair that Regina was ever desperate enough, _desolate_ enough, to jump (or fall) from a balcony.

'You have me...' The words are out there, heavy and suffocating as she waits carefully for Regina's response, only to find none. Her nerves are being gradually stretched to their breaking point when Regina finally turns around to face her, a blotchy mess left from the tears. It's morbid watching her slowly blink away any remnants of tears in her eyes, watching the pink splotches of colour slowly fade away, till nothing's left of her emotional breakdown other than a reddened nose and the faintest of tear trails. It's like watching Dostoevsky in action, turning wretchedness and misery into something that could function, even if it is at the bare minimum of existence.

She watches the back straighten from its stooped posture and the head gradually tilts back, in a manner reminiscent of true royalty and Tinker Bell inwardly marvels at such a display, such majesty in the midst of tragedy.

'We should head back,' is all she says, offering no reply to the fairy's proffered friendship but she isn't really surprised.

What is a friendship when faced with the permanent loss of a son?

It's not fair that Regina finally found true love in the form of her son, only to lose him completely and utterly, in order to save him and everyone else?

'Let's. Blue is up, some of the others were stirring but everyone seemed unharmed.' She pauses, before she decides to speak what was on her mind. The woman she sees in front of her, it scares her. She's terrified because she's seen this woman before. It was the woman who had jumped off her balcony and she doesn't want to see it happen again. 'Even if I am not your friend, you are still mine.'

She's turned her back to Regina, ready to walk back to the others when she hears the words, so softly spoken that she's not sure whether she was meant to hear it or not.

'Thanks, Tink. You're friendship is all I have left...'

It burns a hole that penetrates from her heart to her soul. They make their way back in silence, Regina lost in memories of a much beloved son and Tinker Bell wondering who the hell Blue had been to tell her that Regina was beyond salvation? Nobody deserves happy endings more than them, she thinks. And Regina, whatever evil she may have done, has sacrificed more than enough for the happiness and safety of others.

And maybe it isn't a happy ending, maybe there isn't a purely happy ending for Regina, with a son forever beyond her reach. But she could have a relatively happy ending, couldn't she? Starting with a friendship Tinker Bell was intent on keeping for life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer****:** I don't own Once Upon A Time. But I do have writing stories about their characters.

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><p><span><strong>Thicker Than Blood<strong>

'_Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves_.'

~ Carl Jung ~

Her chest feels impossibly heavy when she wakes up, covered in clinging sweat that makes the night chilly despite the lack of wind. Tinkerbell looks around, tries to pierce the darkness with doubtful success. The night is dark but it is the branches of the trees above, reaching for each other and providing a delicate canopy that hides any weak light that the moon could have offered.

She's shaken, literally. Her hands held in front of her tremble pitifully and she has to choke back… A sob? A scream? A plea for help? A cry for Regina?

Regina could help. Maybe. She would know what it was, what it could be, how to find out what it means. _What was it? _It sounded suspiciously like the nightmares she had heard some of the lost boys whisper about but they were unheard of amongst fairies. Sleep was barely required of them, a couple of hours every week more than sufficing and dreams were considered a rare gift, bestowed on those with destinies before them. Tinkerbell had never had a dream before, none that she could recall, and for one to be this unpleasant, to leave her lungs begging for more air, chest heaving in barely subdued panic, heart racing faster than her thoughts… It felt like a warning of sorts.

'Regina?' This time, her thoughts made their way to her lips but her whisper was as pitiful and shaky as her hands. Her knees are wobbly, too, when she stands but its instinct at its basest guiding her, prompting her to stand and search for whoever or whatever could comfort her. 'Regina?' She tries again, her lips dry and cracked and her mouth too dry to offer it any help. She makes her way to the right, tentative step at a time. There's just enough light to see those right in front of her. Anything more than a foot away is cloaked in darkness impossible to pierce now that their campfire has died down. She's nearing the edge of the clearing they had settled at for the night, Regina _obviously_ opting for the outskirts of said clearing. Tinkerbell doesn't know whether it's psychological on Regina's part or that of her subjects, but she seems to be constantly pushed away.

The earth feels unsteady beneath her, rising and falling as if it were breathing. Thank god for the flat shoes, she suddenly though. She's seen some of the teetering, tottering tall shoes Regina had and recalled easily the flimsy, whimsical, impractical shoes that had been popular in this world. The ones she wore now were much easier to walk in, though she had that perpetual longing to be up in the air. Her wings twinged, as if reminding her of their presence or maybe demanding to be used but she ignored it and paying the price as she stumbled over somebody.

'Oomph,' her hands land solidly on the dirt, barely keeping the rest of her off the ground. With little more than grunting and incomprehensible muttering, the poorly kempt man turned over in her direction, still asleep. Tink's eyes swept around him, finding tousled blankets on the ground beyond the sleeping man, where the clearing tapered to the forest proper. She was certain that's where Regina had laid for the night.

A panic of a different kind pulses through her veins, stomach churning enough to feel sick. Had she ever felt like this when she had been a simple fairy? She couldn't remember. Those times felt several lifetimes ago, as if they had been a dream or a feverish delirium, but this panic was all too visceral, familiar like a ghost from her time with Peter Pan.

Without thought, she finds herself on her feet, staring down at where Regina had slept and without any further conscious thought, Tinkerbell's feet led her into the trees, the branches decorating her with superficial scratches, like witches' claws trying to hold her back. She ignores them, her mind a meaningless buzz with little consequential thought. The trees all look the same, faceless dark things without any individuality or identity and it's not long before Tinkerbell is fully aware that she's lost. For all that this is the land where she was created and came into being, that is arguably her motherland, the world she belongs to, she doesn't understand it. She'd spent so much more time in Neverland, time during which she had grown and developed and became something that could be described as more than 'green' and 'fairy', and sometimes she thinks she owns that world as much as that world owned her.

And then there's Regina's world, which was really not Regina's at all. Sure, it was her curse that took them there, but she was born and raised in this land, however much she might have loved that kingdom. Their tentative friendship but non-friendship had meant that Tinkerbell had become accustomed to that world, with its rules and limitations and comforts so quickly, maybe too easily. What does it say about this land that neither Tinkerbell, nor Regina, nor many of the others, she suspects, love this land or feel that they belong to it? It's ironic that returning here feels like a trap, a greater curse than the one that took Regina away from here.

She doesn't realise how abnormally silent, eerily so, the forest is until it's broken. Too quiet, too distant to be clearly made out, automatically Tinkerbell follows it. And maybe it is just having a purpose or destination, but it feels easier to walk in that direction than it had before.

If she didn't know any better, Tinkerbell would call it magic, the way that the branches scratched her just a little less, the way the darkness eased up just a little bit. What is definitely not magic is the noise becoming clearer, the curiously memorable whispers of water lapping against each other. What was less identifiable was another sound that sent little shocks to her fingertips, tingling down her back and up her neck. She recognised it like a burning itch that she couldn't reach, just out of reach.

And then she came upon a sight that stopped her dead in her tracks, an immovable statue bearing witness to a sight that froze like fire, burned like ice, the scene from a devastating fairytale.

Did Henry ever read this side of the story? Of a princess with her happy endings snatched from her so that his glorious hero could have a stepmother? Her lips twist and turn into a sneer with the thoughts because she's never really liked him, not for his own sake, only for the sake of Regina.

And it was Regina she could see, bathed in the faint shimmering moonlight that could make its way through the treetops, crouched on the ground on her knees beside the slimmest of water flowing beside her. It was an ethereal scene, made all the more nauseatingly disturbing by the sound of retching that came from her.

_Regina_. Her name doesn't make it to Tink's lips this time but her steps carry her forward and she finds herself on the ground beside the Queen.

'I'm okay,' the Queen croaks out, voice dry and cracked and eyes red from the water it had undoubtedly unleashed. She had once described the other world, the one without magic, as containing all the more magic within it, because the humans, with the limitations severe compared to this world, had sought to learn all about it.

'They study everything,' she'd said with a roll of her eyes, but Tink had seen the respect hidden within them.

'Everything?' She had asked sceptically. 'Like insect and birds and animals?' Regina nodded to each. 'Do they study themselves?' She had asked with a little derision, almost pouting when Regina had nodded at that too. 'What about stories and fairytales?' She'd tried again but Regina had only nodded, smirk growing wider and wider.

'They _even_ study how old trees are,' she'd rolled her eyes dramatically again. 'Dendrochronology – it's the rings trees have when you cut them,' she'd added and Tink had wondered if they were thinking the same thing. Could it have been studied here? Could that notion of studying everything have taken root here? Could they have studied history and learnt from it? Could they have progressed and discovered electricity? Or gunpowder and guns? Or fireworks? Or that rulers taking what they wanted was _wrong_ and shouldn't be permitted? Could Regina have been saved if they'd just learnt to study everything and understand and analyse and _progress_ from what they'd known all along instead of sitting pretty on it?

It doesn't take a lot of studying or understanding or analysing to know why Regina is here, in the dead of night, trying to bring up something from her stomach when it's all probably lying by her feet. Her hands are steady when she pushes the ridiculously long hair back from Regina's face and grips it in one hand, the other coming to rest on her back.

'I know, Regina, I know this is killing you,' Tink murmurs in a soft voice that rages internally at the selfish brat that could so readily destroy someone. She herself doesn't know whether she means little Princess Snow or Henry. 'I know you're missing Henry and it's not going to be less painful. But I'll be here for you and we'll get through it together.' Tink promises. Neither of them have had a fair or easy life, and Tink's unsavoury lot in life could be attributed to Regina, but they share an understanding; it's all that matters to Tink.

Regina's eyes fill with water that Tink ignores out of respect, staring distantly at something that Tink could never see. 'It's not Henry,' is all Regina has to say to shift the focus of the world for Tinkerbell once again.

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><p><span><strong>Author's Note<strong>**: **So this story began as a one-shot, and subsequently developed the idea into a three-shot. And then I started writing **Vow of the Queensguard **and I realised this would be the perfect companion piece to that story, so this will develop into a multi-chaptered story, with **Vow of the Queensguard **acting as a sister-piece/prequel of sorts for this story.

The premise of this story was the budding friendship between Tinkerbell and Regina, and how the group as a whole survives the return to the Enchanted Forest after the reversal of the curse. It will delve into group dynamics and will most definitely involve Robin Hood. He will be introduced soon (next chapter)... But this will definitely be AU.

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><p><span><strong>Thank You<strong>

Thank you to **Marish89**, **Nicholas Dreamer**, **PlaidPrincess**, **authorlouise** and **kurotenshi-08 **for following this story.

Thank you to **Alyssap101**, **Nicholas Dreamer **and **authorlouise **for favouriting this story.

I hope you enjoy this chapter and I would be grateful for feedback from any and everyone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer****: **I don't own Once Upon A Time or the characters therein. I just have fun with them.

**Author's Note****: **It's been a long time coming but I wasn't entirely happy with the direction the story was going on. I had initially envisioned something much darker but whilst there will be extremely dark elements, (and relevant warnings at the start of the chapters containing those elements), the overall story has taken a somewhat more sardonic, humorous turn, and you know what? It's actually kinda more fun, so I do hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. And expect more action and the entry of Robin Hood and one or two of his merry men over the next chapter or two.

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><p><span><strong>Thicker Than Blood<strong>

'_A year from now you may wish you had started today_.'

~ Karen Lamb ~

Tinkerbell has seen four sunrises, Regina by her side, violent slashes of colour destroying the velvet darkness overhead like drops of blood dissipating in water. Each of the cherished sunrises started the night before, moon at its highest, with Regina waking up with strangled sobs, choked screams and the retching, constant, painful retching that never allowed her to keep anything within her stomach.

Each of those nights had Tinkerbell waking up from nightmares, her seven senses on fire and that pressure always on her chest, never letting up and never letting her breathe. The easy assumption would be that it was nerves from returning here – Blue had said as much, her manner as snooty as the last time Tink had been a fairy. It was too simple an explanation. There was an unease that permeated the air, and it kept Tink close to Regina's side, even when ordered otherwise.

'I can represent the fairies down here, help them if needed, and contact you with news,' Tink had parroted what Regina had suggested earlier, and miraculously it had worked. The lines of suspicion had eased in the old fairy's face and she had agreed, demanding regular updates; updates Tinkerbell had thus far ignored – she could claim that little of note had happened, if Regina's nightly terrors and diminishing weight were discounted, as undoubtedly that bitchy old fairy would.

It was obvious that Blue didn't trust the Evil Queen, despite the sacrifices she had made. Her feelings, in fact, went considerably beyond that, bordering on loathing. The Blue Fairy made no effort to disguise the contempt on her face when she looked at the Queen, didn't hide her suspicion whenever Regina took a step, and flung her scorn if words ever left Regina's lips. Tinkerbell wouldn't have tolerated it, but for the glint in Regina's eyes that mirrored everything Blue felt tenfold yet better hid and her gentle hand that maintained calm as it rested on Tink's arm.

The discord itself surprisingly didn't bother her at all, Tinkerbell mused as she stared into the running water before her, reflecting the sky above with the darkness slowly dissolving. Her loyalty was with Regina, and when the time came, she would act accordingly. Until then, she decided to avoid the battles she could.

'You know you don't need to keep me company,' the scratchy murmur reached Tink's ears. She couldn't seem to gainsay Regina's mistrust, regardless of what she did. She'd tried a myriad of ways – comfort the first night, questions the second, pleading the third and worried annoyance the fourth. Tonight, she had opted for silence with little success.

Their companionable silence was strangely soothing, with the sounds of the beasts of the night muffled and distant. This was their own little paradise – a cocoon apart from the disgruntled, ungrateful beings that had followed Regina back to this land, their land. The magic was palpable here – soft and insubstantial like the changing of summer into autumn. It was dangerously intoxicating and Tink found herself treasuring these moments of magic, desiring more every time.

It felt like she had but blinked and the sun was rising, the near blackness of the sky melting seamlessly into cheery blue, the brushes of orange and red and pink creating a dizzying vision. They stayed together for moments longer before, with silent accord, they both made their way back to the camps.

Regina's bedding remained on the edge of the encampment closest to the running water, and Tink, with stubborn loyalty and unnecessary defiance, kept her bedding next to Regina's. This latest enclosure was considerably smaller than their first few, just enough room for all to lie without touching each other. It felt suffocating, Tink thought as she eyed the slumbering masses with overt distaste. There had been a benefit to being alone on Pan's island.

With dawn, there was stirring but the only one to make an effort to get up was Granny, who had elected to bed near them, grumbling about ungrateful spoilt kids and granddaughters who cared naught for their aging relatives. Tink smothered a giggle at the familiar rant and saw, from the corner of her eye, the corner of Regina's lips uplift the faintest.

'We need food,' Granny's voice came loud and clear, enough to wake the lightest of sleepers. Her eyes, sharp and shrewd, stared into theirs unblinking. 'Make that oaf of a prince go hunting – we need more than berries and he's done enough moping.'

'Should I use those words exactly?' Regina replied, voice smooth as silk.

'Yes, and tell him you're quoting me too,' Granny snapped back, unimpressed, before her voice settled into the familiar soto voce she commonly employed to air her grievances. 'Acting like little children and throwing tantrums…'

Regina's lips curved into a surprisingly gleeful, if vindictive smile, before she stalked over to the royal couple – of course, resting in the centre of the clearing. Tink tagged along, to ensure Regina's safety, she told herself - definitely not because this had the potential to be hilarious.

They both towered over the snoring man, still deep in an oblivious sleep. No sense of self preservation whatsoever, Tink thought. He wouldn't have lasted a night in Neverland alone. Thank the stars he had his wife and minions to ensure his longevity.

'Are you going to kick him awake?' Tink asked out of politeness, employing the same voice she had used when she had commented on how green the forest was and how the weather wasn't as pleasant as it ought to be for this season and how dreadfully glad she was for her flat shoes (and moreso for her ability to fly). As with all those times, the look Regina reserved for her dripped with fond irritation, a look Tink had seen nobody else pull of.

'It might be taken as an act of aggression,' was Regina's dry reply, having clearly already considered it. 'I'll probably be held captive,' she'd said, a certain bitterness running through the words that turned Tink's stomach.

'I'll do it then,' she'd said brightly, her wings fluttering with excitement. Before Regina could stop her (and deny it as she might, Tink saw the intention clear across her face), Tink had lifted her left foot and pushed it in forcefully into the lazy prince's stomach. She paid for it with a pained yelp that echoed his pained yelp but at least she'll remember to not lead with her toes, for the next time.

That seemed to wake the lot of them up as Granny's shouts and Regina's nightmares hadn't. But _of course_ the Shepherd Prince's yelping would.

'_Regina_!' Snow's voice, shocked and astounded and horrified, carried loudly and clearly, almost as if she were deliberately announcing it to everyone within the clearing. '_How_ could you?'

With a long suffering sigh and a roll of the eyes, Regina countered with, 'I didn't do anything.' It was said factually and dismissively but was soundly ignored. Through the rising din of increasingly aggressive voices, Snow's voice once again cut through them. 'Oh, _of course_, you didn't. You're just standing over Charming to enjoy the scenery.'

Tink looked at Regina as she looked back at her. The face was white, looked bloodless, her eyes looked large and haunted, and there was a general greenish tinge (not just because they were in the middle of a forest) that warned Tink that the Queen might just throw up, there and then. With visible effort and an audible swallow, she responded. 'Snow, trust me. There is nothing about _that_,' said with such scorn and a vicious glare at the oaf still lying on the ground. 'That makes the scenery anything short of hideous.'

'Besides, it was me,' Tink chimed in cheerfully, finally, flexing her foot up and down which did nothing to ease the pain in her toes.

'Tink? Why would you do something like this?' Snow sounded aghast and close to tears and so damned oblivious, and, oh _Merlin_, the fairy just wanted to tell her to grow the hell up.

'We need food. More than just berries.' In the most matter-of-fact voice that the fairy could create, she met Snow's eyes limply and informed her. Snow's eyes fluttered dazedly, eyes wide and not entirely comprehensive. Her little mouth had fallen open and Tink had to smother another snort.

'I guess we could get some of the people to go hunting,' she turned her uncertain orbs around the campsite.

'He,' Granny aggressively pointed her finger at the prince that was _still_ lying on the ground, mouth gaping open in seemingly permanent bewilderment. 'Needs to go hunting for food.'

'But we have other people to do that,' Snow began only to be interrupted by the unimpressed derision of the older woman.

'He needs to get off his ass and start doing something,' she retorted acerbically.

'He's the Prince and he's leading us back to the castle. And we've just lost our daughter,' Snow spluttered indignantly.

'He's not _my _prince,' came the unflinching reply, steely eyes gazing unfalteringly into the younger pair. 'And I've had enough of the moping, _both_ of yours. It's time you grew up and acted like leaders, if you want to lead. Until then, you're helping the rest of us with the chores.'

She'd walked away without offering Snow any opportunity to protest, and Tink had no issue whatsoever letting the grin spread across her face. A quick glance around quickly told the fairy that Snow wouldn't be getting support against those orders from anyone, innate laziness and fear of the older woman's tongue being more than sufficient incentives to keep their mouths shut.

So, begrudgingly, with noisy grumbling and dark looks thrown in every which direction (most often in Regina's), the shepherd prince wandered off with a handful of other men to hunt for meat (the dwarves refusing point-blank). Snow, meanwhile, had taken to meandering around the campsite uncertainly. Tink had joined Regina in chopping the meagre edible vegetables they had scrounged up, admiring her neatly identical slices, as the remainder of the women foraged for further berries and nuts and the remaining men folk cleared away the campsite.

The old woman settled herself next to them, one of a handful that voluntarily veered towards the Queen but if she noticed, Tink couldn't tell. It took a minute but soon there was a small fire going, the flames too insubstantial to cast a yellow glow around anything beyond the grass and the weathered hands that tended them. She was remarkably suited to the wildness, as much as she had ever been at home in her personal diner. The flames weren't anything that would threaten even an ant, but they were sustained, and were soon surrounded by large twigs and small sticks that had the tips sharpened to a slightly more threatening point.

'We need water,' she grunted, and Tink could practically see Regina doing her best to pointedly ignore the old woman and the little fairy had to swallow back another snort. Maybe the Blue hag was right? Maybe she was spending too much time with the Evil Queen but Regina never seemed evil, she just seemed to have a sense of humour that correlated rather too well with her own, she thought.

'Maybe you're okay with the miserably lazy dwarves lounging around and complaining, but maybe I'll chat to you all day if you don't organise them,' she continued, smirking meanly at the queen, eyes glinting with malicious pleasure.

With a scowl mostly for show, and only the _tiniest _hint of gleeful satisfaction, Regina stood up gracefully, stalking to where the dwarves were clustered together. Her voice to carry as she relayed Granny's orders, word for word. And the clearing grew ever quieter as the noisy retaliations took place. As if seven dwarves ever had a chance against one Regina, Tink thought as she sniggered along with the observers who watched in amusement.

'Gruel's easier on a sick stomach,' Widow Lucas muttered in the midst of the commotion and Tink would have assumed it was to herself except for the sly glance she threw to Tink. Regina might choose to ignore it but she most certainly had found a friend in this woman with a weathered face and battered hands that held far more strength and canny skill than her well meaning but ditzy granddaughter could fathom. And as Tink looked at the looming trees, the stifling shadows that crowded them, that feeling of _wrong wrong wrong_ bombarding her again, she was glad, so _very_ glad that Regina had one other friend by her side, at least.


End file.
